


Remodelling

by hariboo



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/pseuds/hariboo
Summary: Literally curtain fic. Set in the 40s.





	

**Author's Note:**

> short tumblr prompt i got a while back.

Steve groans himself awake, curling up into a tighter ball under both his and Bucky’s blankets. It’s been really cold lately and the heating in the apartment is shit, which isn’t really good for his lung and he’s been trying to hide the pressure he feels in his chest from Bucky. He’s pretty sure he’s failing, but Bucky at least pretends, somedays, to buy Steve’s bullshit. 

He’s about to force himself back to sleep when he hears it. It’s low, whispered, like a secret. 

“Fucking goddamn shit." 

The words are followed by a muffled clang and Steve grins. Bucky’s no master of stealth by any means. He pushes himself up on his elbows and squints in the dark. Bucky only has one light on — their only lamp — but the streetlight from outside give enough of a glow for Steve to pick up the shadow of Bucky’s jaw and nose. He doesn’t need to see the details of his face to know Bucky’s probably curling his lip, annoyed at him, and there’s a furrow in his brow. The details of Bucky’s face are as familiar to Steve as his own. He can and has drawn them from memory. They’re no mystery, the mystery is what the fuck Bucky is doing.

"Hey, Buck, what you up to?”

There’s another clang and Steve chokes on his laugh as Bucky curses again. “Shit, Steve, you were supposed to stay asleep. Way to ruin the surprise.” He glares, turning to Steve, who sits up on the mattress and notices what Bucky is holding.

“Is that curtain rod?” Steve says, cocking his brow, “But we don’t have—”

Bucky grins, his teeth catching the bit of light that coming through the window. It’s been raining and cold and sometimes Steve hates winter. Not always and not really, but sometimes. When it’s too cold and Bucky’s fingers are cold to the touch and he shrugs off his coat pretending he’s fine when he sees Steve shiver.

“We do now,” Bucky says with a smug hand flourish and heaves the metal rod up onto the curtain frames. Steve watches at the muscles on his back work and tries to remember for a sketch. Maybe a painting. “Man Vs. Curtains” he’d call it. 

He watches the curtain fall and they’re thick, some heavy material and they block the streetlight. Suddenly their small apartment with shitty heating feels like a cave. Just him and Bucky and the lone lamp. It casts shadows on Bucky and Steve makes himself remember this moment too when Bucky turns to him, proud smile on his face, the shadow of his cheekbones, the highlight on his lips that remains from where he had bit it in concentration. 

Steve wants to ask why they have curtains now, but Bucky is moving towards the mattress, crawling beside him and rubbing his fingers. Steve wants to grab his hand and rub warmth back in them, but his hands are cold too. He tosses his blanket over Bucky’s lap. They smile at each other, lean against the wall, and look at the curtains. 

“Nice curtains,” Steve says.

Bucky snort. “Shut up, you know they’re ugly as shit.”

“Yeah, but they’re still nice.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and nudges Steve shoulder with his. He picks up both blankets, layers them, and covers their legs with them. “Ugly as sin, but… they’re wool. They’ll block out the cold.”

Steve nods, he figured as much, and now he understands why Bucky’s been taking triple shifts at the garbage. He nudges Bucky back.

“Well, honey, I really love what you’ve done to the place.”

“Fucking punk.”


End file.
